


Meant to Be Near Me

by Sass_Master



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 16:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6862255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sass_Master/pseuds/Sass_Master
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Cas,” he says carefully, licking his lips, “What are you asking me here?” He stares at the ring in Cas’s hand, throat dry, heart pounding. He can’t believe this is ha—well, he’s not sure what’s happening, actually.</p><p>Cas’s face gives nothing away. “I’m asking if you’d like to wear this ring.”</p><p>“Right,” Dean says awkwardly, too quick. “It just— it kinda sounded like you were asking me to—”</p><p>“To get married?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant to Be Near Me

Dean has to admit, he’s kinda crazy about this whole “domestic bliss” thing. He would’ve figured that the quiet, the simplicity of it all, would seem painfully boring compared to the lifestyle he’s used to, but maybe that’s exactly what makes it so appealing – it’s a weird luxury, having spare time to while away doing something as mundane as menial housework, someone he cares about by his side. The monotony’s soothing; there’s something that feels warm and safe about it – not boring, just relaxing. Peaceful. Today, it’s cleaning up after dinner that sets off that strange sense of contentment, him and Cas crowded up to the kitchen sink doing the dishes in comfortable silence. If he digs down deep, really picks his psyche apart and analyzes the pieces, this sorta shit is all he’s wanted since he was four years old. He’s had bigger dreams, sure, but in some ways _this_ was his wildest fantasy. If this is what settling down is like, Dean’s pretty okay with that.

Dean hands Cas a freshly-washed glass and watches with interest as he methodically dries it with a dish towel. Dean’s distracted by the way Cas’s hands move, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, forearms flexing. Maybe Dean can convince him to “turn in” early tonight—speaking of things Dean never thought he’d get to have. Waking up next to Cas every morning is… yeah, that’s really something.

“Dean?”

“Uh,” Dean blinks and snaps out of it, dragging his eyes towards Cas’s face, expecting Cas to tease him now that he’s been caught staring. “Yeah?”

But Cas doesn’t answer him right away, just gazes at him fondly for a moment, smiles until Dean smiles back. “Do you remember the ring I found in one of the spare rooms?”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “You mean that one?” he asks, eyeing Cas’s fingers with more innocent intentions this time. There’s a flash of silver on his right hand, a simple band with a Greek key design etched into the surface. It’s nothing fancy, but Cas had taking a liking to it. That was sort of unlike Cas, actually – when it comes to dressing himself he tends to throw on whatever’s convenient or comfortable, whatever’s soft or warm or smells like Dean. “Hard to forget,” he says, rinsing off the last dish and handing it to Cas. “You wear it all the time,”

They’d subjected the ring to the usual battery of tests after Cas found it, checked for hexes and curses and other unsavory magical properties, but it came out clean. They couldn’t even link it to anything historically significant in the bunker records. It was just an heirloom, a relic left behind by a man of letters who liked to accessorize. Cas has rarely taken it off since.

Cas’s lips quirk in acknowledgement. “Well, there was an antique fair next to the farmer’s market today. I found another ring just like mine.”

“Cool,” Dean says, tossing Cas a grin, rinsing the sink clean and drying his hands. He crosses his arms and turns to face Cas, hip bumping against the counter. “Small world, huh? Now you’ve got a spare in case that one goes AWOL.”

“Actually,” Cas murmurs, something hesitant and tense in his words that Dean can’t quite pin down. He even _looks_ nervous as he sets the dripping plate aside without drying it, wiping his hands on his jeans (even though the towel is _right there_ ) and fishing out the duplicate ring from his pocket. “I thought perhaps you’d like to have it.”

Any stray thoughts circling Dean’s mind immediately screech to a halt. Cas is… giving him a ring. Just like the one he wears. Almost like— no. He couldn’t be. Could he?

“Cas,” he says carefully, licking his lips, “What are you asking me here?” He stares at the ring in Cas’s hand, throat dry, heart pounding. He can’t believe this is ha—well, he’s not sure what’s happening, actually.

Cas’s face gives nothing away. “I’m asking if you’d like to wear this ring.”

“Right,” Dean says awkwardly, too quick. “It just— it kinda sounded like you were asking me to—”

“To get married?”

Dean swallows hard. Hearing that out loud is…. wow. He blinks, needing a moment to find his voice. “Well, _yeah_ ,” he says with a slightly hysterical laugh. “I mean, were you—should— should I start calling caterers, or something?”

Cas furrows his brow. “I never really envisioned us having a wedding,” he says slowly. “I’m not even sure we _could_ get married, legally. The paperwork alone could be… problematic.”

Dean feels an unpleasant heat rush to his cheeks that he doesn’t dare acknowledge. “No, yeah, that’d be…” he says vaguely, pushing past the sinking feeling in his gut. Right, it was a little ridiculous to make that leap, to think that Cas would want to _marry_ him. Dean’s not exactly marriage material – at least, that’s what he’s spent decades telling himself and countless one night stands. “’Course you weren’t asking me that,” he mumbles, crossing his arms tighter, staring at a spot on the floor.

“Oh, _Dean_ , no, that’s not—” The urgency Dean hears actually helps find the nerve to look Cas in the eye again. Cas seems genuinely flustered for a moment before he composes himself. “What I meant was—” He squares his jaw, reaching out and untangling Dean’s arms, taking hold of Dean’s left hand and sliding the ring on. Dean must be Cinderella or something, because it’s a perfect goddamn fit. “That’s what the ring is for,” he says at last, eyes soft. “I thought that would be enough – to symbolize our bond, what you mean to me,” he pauses, gaze heavy, and Dean’s heart rate speeds up again. “That we belong to each other.”

 _Oh, okay then_ , Dean thinks, throat tight, _that’s a different story, isn’t it_. Christ, he’s actually getting choked up here.

Cas removes his own ring and holds it out for Dean to take. Dean’s stunned silence must go on a few seconds too long, because Cas adds, “…If that’s something you want, that is,” a hint of uncertainty creeping in.

Dean huffs in exasperation. “If that’s something I— gimme that thing,” he mutters, voice shaky. As if he could say no when Cas is offering him… well, _everything_. “Idiot,” he mumbles affectionately, eyes stinging as he takes the ring and slips it onto Cas’s finger, Cas’s hand rough and warm in his.

Cas takes his other hand, gaze so open and adoring that Dean swears he could drown in it. “This is a promise, Dean,” he says, low and intimate. “To never leave you. To love you as long as you’ll have me.”

“As long as I’ll have _you_?” Dean repeats in disbelief, a few tears escaping and rolling down his cheeks. “Buddy, you’re stuck with me now,” he says with a short laugh and a sniff, but he can’t keep up the unaffected pretense for long, not with Cas’s eyes glazing over with emotion too. “Wanna build a life with you, Cas,” he adds after a beat or two, hushed but sincere.

Cas just smiles at him, tender and serene. “I want that too.”

“Love you so much,” Dean whispers in a rush, not to get it over with, but because he needs to say as soon as fucking possible, can’t delay one second in reminding Cas how he feels.

And, well, he doesn’t need a priest to tell him it’s time to kiss Cas.

His hands slide up to frame Cas’s face, Cas’s arms encircling his waist, pulling them together tight as their lips meet, the thrill familiar but all the more intense in light of this moment, this incredible step they’re taking.

When they break away they simply hold each other close for a while, breathing each other’s air, foreheads touching, giddy smiles on their faces.

“We could do something… grander, if you prefer,” Cas offers, breaking the silence. “I just thought… do we need the stressful ceremony? The _formality_?”

“Fuck no,” Dean fires back. They’ve never been conventional, by any stretch – why should they start now? This is enough. It’s an understated gesture, sure, but it’s so goddamn real it’s exhilarating. “This is perfect.” He’s crying in earnest now, and a fading voice in his head tells him he ought to be embarrassed about it, but he’s not even trying compose himself. This is worth losing his cool over. Cas gently brushes the tears away with his fingers, kisses his damp cheeks. Dean leans into it when Cas cradles his face in one hand, kisses Cas’s palm and mumbles against it, “We’ll get a cake though, right?”

Cas beams at him and shit, it’s a good thing Dean’s already in love with him or he’d be a total fucking goner. “Of course. And champagne? This is something to celebrate.”

“Hell yeah it is. We—” He takes a deep breath. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together.” And even Dean can’t deny that he kinda already knew that, that a ring and a damn cake shouldn’t matter. But it turns out Dean’s a sucker for the symbolism, for the visible declaration of commitment, all those sappy romantic things he told himself – and everyone else – that he didn’t want, because who the hell knew he’d actually get to have them?

“We are,” Cas agrees, squeezing his hand, “Isn’t that extraordinary?”

Dean can only nod in agreement because _yeah_ , it really, really is. He blinks back fresh tears, glancing down at their joined hands, the matching bands on their fingers. “’Til death do us part, huh?”

Dean can hear the wry lilt in Cas’s voice when he replies. “Not even then, I’d imagine.”

Dean makes a noise, either a laugh or a sob or somewhere in between, and reels Cas in again, a surge of elation bubbling up within him: It feels like the first time they kissed, the first time they touched without the flimsy pretense of being strictly friends, the moment Cas decided to stay. As far back as he can remember, his vision of the future’s been vague and muddy – but the image is suddenly bright and sharp, nothing but love and safety and Cas, Cas, Cas. It’s real now. They’re family.

God, while they’re at it, he wants a freakin’ _honeymoon_ too – nothing too fancy, but maybe he and Cas can hit the road for a while, just the two of them, drive out to New England and hole up in a kitschy B &B, walk along the beach at sunset and hold hands. There was a time when he’d have feigned a gag at an idea like that, just to keep up appearances, but that urge has been completely overwhelmed by a more honest sense of _longing_. Dean’s never really wanted to shout anything from the rooftops before, but he’s starting to get why that’s a thing now.

“Hey, Sammy!” he breaks away long enough to holler, no idea if Sam can even hear him from wherever he wandered off to, “Guess who just got hitched?” He can’t even wait for a response before Cas hauls him forward for another kiss.

And if Sam does come running and he’s got a problem walking in on them making out, he’s just gonna have to get used to it – Dean can kiss his… his _husband_ anywhere he damn well pleases.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://sass-master-stina.tumblr.com)!


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